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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867051">Evanescance</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexi_Wassabi/pseuds/Lexi_Wassabi'>Lexi_Wassabi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Escape the Night (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:01:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867051</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexi_Wassabi/pseuds/Lexi_Wassabi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>DeStorm power and Matthew Patrick are paired up on a case. Manny Mua and Alexander Burriss went missing nine months prior to this, and DeStorm is left with a burden while working on this case. Manny and Mat have a colorful history that may not be too beautiful, and yet people seem to have a terrible problem memorizing these boys.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Aviator | Alex Wassabi/The Enforcer | DeStorm Power, The Detective | Matthew Patrick/The Record Producer | Manny MUA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Tabs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>DeStorm Power woke up in a cold sweat, his first glance being his Television that hasn't worked in what feels like a millennia. He looked at his reflection in the television as light squirmed its way through his blinds. Today was his first day back on the job after well.. the incident. He refuses to refer to it as anything else but that. He despises talking about it in general, even if it's to himself. Now you're wondering, what's so terrifying that you had to stop briefly and back away from the thing that gave you money? It's a story for another time, but it sure is hell isn't going to be avoided by the man. He wiped the beaded sweat off of his forehead, forehead wrinkling up in hurt as he did so.</p><p>The dreams or rather nightmares always ended in him waking up like he just saw a ghost. All DeStorm would see in the nightmares was the girl. That girl stuck in the mans dreams like a tack on a pin board. DeStorm held his chest as he took his deep breaths, tending to his normal breathing cycle that would calm him down before he had one of his episodes like he did the previous night. DeStorm knew it had been a while since it had happened, but the way that it unfolded had went at his hand. He came out of that situation broken, and pissed. </p><p>Not at anyone in particular, just pissed at himself. The man ran a hand into his stubble of a hair-do before standing up in a tired manner. He looked at himself in his grooved mirror with a rather interesting expression. It was that of disgust. It was something that he brought with himself just like he brought that one burden with him. The creases in his under eyes were enough to, if someone were to read his manner, to show that he rarely gets a wink of rest. </p><p>The nights fluctuate between his moods. He then hung himself over his closet, letting out a sigh of exhaust as he knew he would have to take a shower. DeStorm honestly didn't want to do anything right now but he hadn't had a shower in weeks and he smelt of cigarette smoke and whiskey. That would explain the several glass bottles by his bed, plus the gingerish looking stains and the glass shards pressed harshly into the wall after what seemed like the aftermath of a breakdown which honestly wasn't usually in DeStorm style. DeStorm usually never had episodes like these, and when he did everything in his path had to go. He tried to avoid the Alcohol drenched cigarette packet in the corner of his dresser, but he knew he would have to smoke at least one of them before heading out to the officers department. He sighed and pulled out his heavily worn navy blue trenchcoat. He wore that thing Everytime he went to work. It still somehow stayed in well condition after all those years that he's been wearing it. He always was fond of the jacket, but never knew the exact reason why. He grabbed the black holed gloves from the bottom of the closet, the pit as he calls it. He has alot of stuff down in the bottom, which kinda makes it look endless so therefore he calls it the pit. The gloves are just protection for his hands. When he throws punches it'll end up only hurting his knuckles and middle area of his hands. They really came in handy when in assault situations. Trust me, DeStorm knows how to use them properly. He took the flat cap off the rack with a rough yank, and threw it on his bed. He didn't go a day without wearing a flat cap, a result of not wanting to nessecarily show his head. It made him feel gross in a way, probably being a result of him wearing something on his head so often.  He pulled out a white dress shirt with a greyish waist-coat and white lined vest with a red tie, and pants that match his vest. This was so repetitive of the last time he got ready for work. Honestly a very surreal experience since he honestly didn't think he would go back to work after it happened. They didn't blame him, but he blamed himself. He couldn't bring himself to forgive what he did ever.  All DeStorm saw when he looked in that mirror earlier, was a monster. With a sigh, he grabbed his usual Black socks with some blackish grey dress shoes and a chain link watch. Something that wasn't usually on his outfit, but he wanted to keep track of the time that day. Time had became a very precious thing for the man, Especially then. There was a time where DeStorm would spend hours fixating on something like a TV show, or drawing. The man had plans of being an artist when he was younger, even got a degree. but those were only feeble memories now. They disappeared once he was told that he wouldn't get anywhere with a job like that. He went back to college for a degree in law, something he didn't want, but knew he would have to do if he wanted to make it in the world. Now here the man was, working as an enforcer in Los Angeles California. California was way different from where he was raised. He was raised in a small house in Detroit with his several other siblings, having to fight to survive. He doesn't have any family to go back to anymore, but the memories were kept safe. </p><p>The man scrambled himself as fast as he could to the bathroom, the heap of piled clothes in his arms. He dumped the clothes pile on his toilet seat, and kicked the door  closed behind him. He removed his clothes and jumped into the shower, a soft  huff following behind him.</p><p> </p><p>As DeStorm got out of the shower, he pulled a towel over his waist and grabbed the clothes, dragging them back into his bedroom in frustration. He wasn't much of a worker believe it or not, that's why he's huffing and puffing all terribly. DeStorm grabbed his white dress shirt and pulled it on in front of the mirror, buttoning it up swiftly. He then pulled his pants on, the pants pressing against his thighs and fore-leg. He rolled up the sleeve so he isn't too terribly hot, and then grabbed a belt. He looped the belt through the holes and then clipped it, grabbing his waist-coat and buttoning that up too. He firmly grabbed his gloves and unbuckled the front part and pulling them on, then settling the buckles in their spots, a sigh parting from his lips. He then put his socks on, and slipped his shoes on his feet, double knotting them quickly. He grabbed his gun, taser, and pepper spray and clipped the things to his belt. He grabbed himself his badge and slipped that into his waist-coat pocket. He sat his flat cap on his head roughly, a grunt letting out of the man. He then pulled his trenchcoat on, slipping his hands through the coat and buttoning it up. He clipped his watch to the pocket, a chain linking to his belt. After doing all of that he went towards his dresser and hesitated. He didn't want to smoke anymore. He made a promise to himself he wouldn't smoke anymore. His lungs were already ruined enough, so why should he care about his own health? He gave in and  grabbed the small packet of cigarettes, pulling one out and stuffing the rest of the packet in his pocket. He then grabbed his lighter and lit the cigarette, smoke pouring out of the damned thing. He guided himself through his living room and then went out the door, making sure he locked it before heading out to his car. He hopped into the car and pressed the keys in the ignition, cigarette letting out a huge puff of smoke before he started turning them right and driving off, foot pressed firmly on the pedal. </p><p> </p><p>It had been thirty minutes since DeStorm had left his home, rolling up on the station. The station looked like some sort of western movie fanatics haven, and he despised the place for that. A police station shouldn't be appealing to the world outdoors, it should be a place of seriousness. Kinda reminded him of his old friend Jesse. His full name was Jesse wellens, if that was something important anyway.  The man had an odd fascination with movies about outlaws. He even wanted to be one at one time, but DeStorm always discouraged it for him. He was just making sure that Jesse didn't land his ass in jail. DeStorm had several trips to juvenile hall as a kid and he would recommend to not go there. Place was sealed tighter than skinny jeans that was ordered slightly too small.  Honestly DeStorm was quite the trouble maker as a kid according to his older siblings. He huffed himself out of his car, locking the car door and strutting over to the door, pressing a hand to said door. He opened the door and walked in, his superiors eyeing him with a certain look that made him slightly confused. He was looked at like he killed a man. Wasn't like he wasn't used to those faces, but it made him shiver when he was told to head into the office. DeStorm followed his superior into their office, sitting in a seat, one leg crossed over the other. </p><p>"Morning, Officer power. Do you know why you're here?"</p><p>He grunted before speaking, arching a brow. "Let me guess, I'm here because I'm fired? Or, it's because you forgot your lunch at a case.* he deadpanned, being a bit too sarcastic.</p><p>"Not quite." the man shook his head. </p><p>"You're  here because we want to change your case status. We're puttin' you down to missing persons cases. Now this is because of what happened a few months ago. I know the situation might've been hard for you, so we just wanted to do ye' a favour. This first case you're on, you have a partner. I know you think you're good on your own, but I think a little help from everlocks best detective will do you some good."</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the superior finished talking, a man in a bright orange outfit stepped into the room, squishing the bright orange shaded glasses against his face. DeStorm could've swore the man was a walking disco ball. He opened a chair and sat beside DeStorm, glancing over at him.</p><p>"Detective Matthew Patrick." he muttered out towards DeStorm, putting his hand out for him to shake it. </p><p>"Officer DeStorm Power." he cocked a brow, shaking the man's hand. He didn't usually shake hands, but he supposed he could for the situation at hand. </p><p>The superior opened a drawer with a description of the two men, and pictures beside them. At first glance DeStorm didn't know who they were, so he huffed and stood up, pushing his chair in and  looking over at Matt. "So, you just gonna sit there or are you comin'? This case can't solve itself." he spoke, Matt rolling his eyes and standing up. "No, obviously I'm staying here and sitting here quietly while you solve the case." that statement was littered with sarcasm, and if you couldn't smell it from a mile away I don't know what you could smell. Matt stood up, DeStorm trailing off as Matt followed him. DeStorm lead him to his workspace, the room littered with papers and pencils, case papers sticking out of boxes. It was the definition of a mess, but Matt wouldn't comment on it. DeStorm slides into his swivel chair as matt hopped out of the room quickly. DeStorm questioned as to where he was going, but he might've been going to get something to drink, like a cup of coffee or water. </p><p>As Matt came back he put a cup of coffee on the man's desk, pulling a chair up to his side. DeStorm pressed a hand to his own chest teasingly. "So you didn't get me anything? Damn."  </p><p> </p><p>"Well  I didn't know you wanted something. Remind me to do it next time." Matt had a somewhat ounce of maturity, and DeStorm respected that.</p><p> "Uh-huh." the man nodded before giving Matt his side of the papers. </p><p> </p><p>"Alexander Justin Burriss, Thirty, Five Eleven but claims he's Six feet. The last day he was saw by anyone he was wearing his usual, a darkened brown jacket with olive green pants, black boots, a white dress shirt and a white ascot." </p><p>"So  he's an Aviator? Sounds like something aviators would wear."</p><p>"I  was just gettin' to that." </p><p>"The  last people that saw Alex were his parents in December. Him and Manuel Gutierrez. Apparently they were going to some island down in the Pacific just to get away from the cold, haven't been seen since. Apparently his parents just filed a report, which in my opinion is slackin' off, and is terrible of them. They apparently just thought he was at his house the whole time. who wouldnt check up on their kid after what? Nine months? I hate people." the man shook his head shamefully.</p><p> Matt gazed across his paper, his face paling once he saw the picture of the man. The name didn't strike him as strange. But the face. He knew that face. God he started to regret going to work this day. Manny. </p><p>It was Manny. That's where he was all this time? After he left him?  The paper felt hot to the touch now that he knew that. Something was telling him to just leave, but mat ignored that thought. Manny and him were severely close before he left Everlock. If he found Manny, he was gonna be angry at him. He spent half of his year worried about him. He thought Manny couldve been hurt, or even worse. Dead. He loved Manny, but Manny didn't love him back. It's a very colorful past,, they had. Whenever he would see Manny, Mat would always act like he didn't know him. Mat held grudges, and Manny damn well knows that. He was a fool, an absolute fool. Mat always envied his strength, but that was because he wasn't very confident with himself anymore. He hated his own image, mirrors being his worst enemy.</p><p> </p><p>"What?"  DeStorm called, looking over at the man's comical like face. </p><p>"I know who this is, and I know that he wouldn't just up and disappear. Manny is a crowd kinda guy, and he wouldn't leave his friends. Well the ones he cared for. We were friends,, it was a long time ago but we were friends. I just can't believe that he's missing, out of everyone that could go. He wouldn't leave Nikita Without telling her how long he would be gone, they're close. closer than two peas in a pod if I were to be exact. Apparently they've been makeup buddies since highschool." </p><p>the words hung out of his mouth as he sat there in surprise, gritting his teeth at the end of his statement. Matt didn't want to theorize about anything, but he's thinking that someone sabotaged the two. He was quick to find possible answers to things, that's why he was thinking that. He liked to boast his intelligence alot, but right now wasn't the best time for him to do that. "I'm guessing we'll have to interview someone? I'm thinking we go to Nikita Dragun first. She should know atleast one thing about this."</p><p>"Nikita  dragun? Do you have her address, or are we guessin where she is right now?"</p><p>"Of course I do. I talk to her often, she just hadn't said anything about Manny to me."</p><p>Matt straightened his tie out with a huff, and they were off. They'd be paying this trouble maker a visit in what seems like due time.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Wheel of karma</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>DeStorm and Matthew interview Nikita, but she knows more than she might let on.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Matt and DeStorm went through the Rocky grounds of the parking lot, then towards the drivers side of the police car that they were designated and both placed their hands on the withered black door handle, sharing a glance with eachother. Matt's hand was on top of DeStorms gloved hand, which made him pull back harshly. </p>
<p>"Boy, if you don't sit in the passengers seat so help me god-"</p>
<p>DeStorm cocked a brow towards the male who was once again, pushing his Aviators up against his still pale face and looked at him firmly, cutting off his sentence.</p>
<p>"So help you god what? Y'know, I had a theory about god. If he left us here, then why did he make everyone's life so miserable? Like- he could've made it way more comfortable down here. Maybe he isn't really god? Maybe it's a tentacle monster that wants everyone's life to suck."</p>
<p>That statement was a joke, but it silenced DeStorm to where he was already in the passengers seat. DeStorm may have been stubborn, but he would rather die than hear about some non existent tentacle monster. DeStorm wasn't big on belief, but he was definitely judging Matt harshly right then. </p>
<p>"It always works."</p>
<p>Matt chuckled bitterly and opened the door, jamming the keys into the keyhole, and then back into his revolting patterned pants. He rested his hands on the wheel quickly, just to where he would get comfortable, and looked over at DeStorm. </p>
<p>"You ready?"</p>
<p>"Yes I'm ready. What am I? Three? You don't have to ask that."</p>
<p>"Just asking, plus, you might have to go potty." He cooed at DeStorm like he was a child.</p>
<p>"The only potty I have is a potty mouth."</p>
<p>Matt actually knew his character right when he stepped through that door. He doesn't research officers often, but DeStorm was a rather interesting case, so he knew he had to be careful around him. </p>
<p>DeStorm sighed and looked over at Matt once more. </p>
<p>"Boy if someone doesn't kill you, I will." he rested a glove hand on his head, doing the caressing movement and staring out the window.</p>
<p>"I'd honestly like to see you try."</p>
<p>Matt laughed at him, seeing how his eyes turn into an offended look and pulled out of the driveway, eyes darting from the road to the trees and the bushels. Matt tended to zone out while driving, but that seemed to not be a bother since DeStorm wasn't very talkative at all. </p>
<p>He grabbed the control and turned it on to the classical music radio, since he prefers that over music with genuine words. He turned up the music, and DeStorm gave him a disgusted look.</p>
<p>"So this, is what 'everlocks best detective' listens to? God boy, I thought you'd have a better taste of music than this. Why don't you listen to music that has lyrics? What time are you livin' in? The seventeen hundreds?"</p>
<p>He turned the knob to classic rock, and turned it up way louder.</p>
<p>"Oh so you're a 80's vampire? Jesus Christ, who even listens to this garbage anymore?"</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes and turned it back to classical, turning it up to the max volume, to which DeStorm snarled and covered his ears.</p>
<p>"Will you PLEASE TURN THIS SHIT DOWN!"</p>
<p>DeStorms voice raised, and Matt just turned off the radio.</p>
<p>"Now I know what kinda kid you are. God, If you didn't turn that down I would've shoved you out the damn,, car."</p>
<p>Nikita's house was out in the city since she constantly like to go out and dance with her friends, the duchess Colleen Ballinger, and Rosanna reardon, the socialite. Rosanna was a sister to matt, and he even let her live with him. She stayed, she listened to how upset he was when Manny left. She gave him the tightest hugs when it happened, tears brushing up against the socialites pale arm. Caramel brown eyes turned into light grey from the lack of sleep he got. For months all the detective could think about was Manny. He started going to bars and getting drunk off his ass, coming back home and draping himself over his couch, sobs ringing out through the home. Matthew Patrick was  miserable. But Rosanna always stayed. He loved that girl with his whole heart.</p>
<p> The only reason Matt was there because of this case. They told Matt that DeStorm was troubled, and tended to be cocky and explosive, so maybe he could set him straight. They also told him about what happened to DeStorm, which made Matt a bit on the edge, since what he did was terrible, but he didn't want to judge him by his actions.  Now he would tell DeStorm what he feels, but he would probably get in trouble, because the superiors, and the people sent to retrieve him seemed to dislike DeStorm alot. He would bring that up to DeStorm later, maybe he'd want to talk about it. </p>
<p>As they reached the city, it was growing darker by the second and all the city lights were on and flashing brightly. If.it weren't for all the light pollution, stars would've been visible. DeStorm had his arms crossed, eyes closed and a light snore coming from him. Matt sighed and turned to the rich half of the town. It was filled with jumbo sized houses, mansions, and large hotels that were Extremely expensive. Matt was staying at one of the motels way back, but he'd rather be there than at the higher class hotels. He ran a hand through his milk chocolate like hair as he spoke through the speaker to get through the gate.</p>
<p>"Who- who is this?"</p>
<p>"It's Matt, Nikita." he spoke in a hushed tone.</p>
<p>"Oh! Matt Matt Matt! Hey Matt." she spoke the last half bitterly. Nikita seemed to be out of it, she wasn't acting like she used to be.</p>
<p>Matt and her didn't get along too well. You think they would since Matt was really good friends with Manny, but Nikita and him got into arguments Everytime they saw each other. It usually happened when Matt was really inebriated, but they would get into it. Sometimes ended in bruises on both of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Matt sighed when the gate pulled open, and drove slowly to park. He looked over at the fast asleep DeStorm and inhaled, placing a hand on the man's arm, covered by the layers of his hefty navy blue jacket, and his bright white crinkly dress shirt and shaking him. He wasn't too good with waking people, but he needed to get him awake.</p>
<p>DeStorms eyes flinched open as he swatted Matt's hand away, a loud smacking noise coming out of the car.</p>
<p>"Goddamnit kid- if you do that again-- y'know what, nevermind. I'll get my revenge. You couldn't have left me in here to sleep and went in there?"</p>
<p>He muttered, cursing under his breath as he took his flat-cap off, scratching it on his stubble and then placing it on his head.</p>
<p>"Yknow, I was considering it, then I remembered we had a case to do. If we don't complete this case and find Alex and Manny, your ass'll be fired. So get up and bring your ass to help me."</p>
<p>DeStorm inhaled and opened the blackened car door, shutting it behind him, Matt doing the same.</p>
<p>DeStorm walked to the door, one hand jammed into his pocket and the other pounding at the door.</p>
<p>The girl opened the door, her titanium white hair pinned into curls, a tattoo of teardrops under her left eye, and a silky, creamy white robe concealing her body with a ribbon tie around it. She was a very classy individual to be getting in trouble alot.</p>
<p>"Hey Matt. Oh? Who is your friend here?" she leaned on the door, a smile now patched on her face.</p>
<p>"Hello Nikita. We aren't here to have potential hookups so you can wipe that look off your face right now. This is officer Power, I am detective Patrick as you know, and we are here to investigate the disappearence of Alexander Burriss and your friend Manuel Gutierrez. I know you and Manny were close. so if you don't even try to look for him, you must know something. Now don't start acting all friendly towards me, because we aren't buddy buddy right now. I am working, and when I'm working, we aren't being nice to eachother, since right now we are mere acquaintances. Not like we are out of my work hours any ways."</p>
<p>Nikita rose a brow. "Jeeze, you are the example of a bad cop. Come in you two."</p>
<p>DeStorm huffed and grabbed Matt by the arm. DeStorm was curious as to what made him be such an ass towards the poor girl. He knew detectives had to be professional, but he was acting like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning.</p>
<p>DeStorm got a glance of her manor, the grooves in the walls, the elegant baby pink wallpaper, kinda reminded him of if a child star had a house, but he wasn't going to be  judgemental. </p>
<p>Nikita guided them to the kitchen, pulling chairs out for the three of them.</p>
<p>"Sorry that we can't sit anywhere better, messy house."</p>
<p>She huffed, before the two men took their seating. Matt started the conversation with a simple ask.</p>
<p>"So, if you and Manny are such good friends, then why haven't you done anything to find him?"</p>
<p>The man spoke sharply, tounge darting around in his mouth, which took Nikita by surprise.</p>
<p>"Well, it's simple. I knew Manny and his cute friend,, Alex or something?? were close, so I didn't think anything weird of it when they went missing. I know it isn't like Manny to go away this long, but I'm thinking that he just stayed at that island with him. The last day I saw him was the day before Christmas. We were at the mall, building bears for eachother like we always did when he had free time on his hands. He mentioned where he was going, but his tone seemed a little off. At the time I didn't suspect anything. He would always change the subject when I asked if something was up, but that was just Manny, always wanting to mask something from me."</p>
<p>The beating of a pen on paper was letting out, Matt's hands scribbling whatever he could down. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Other than that, he went to the bathroom and awful lot, but I thought he just had some weird bladder problem, or another weird parasite inside of him." Nikita's high pitched voice let out, a giggle following her final statement. "Sorry, sorry. I just,, miss Manny alot." The female frowned, biting at her acrylic nails, which she tended to do when she was nervous. What she didn't know, was mat was writing down her side of the story, but also writing down how she was acting. </p>
<p>Nikita smiled at the two. "Anyways, can I get you two some coffee?" She muttered, swiftly getting up and going towards the cupboard, before her elbow swatted her small mailkeeping box, papers flying everywhere. </p>
<p>DeStorm rose a brow, sliding to his knees to help her pick up her mail, before she tried to pull him up. </p>
<p>"No! No I don't need help."</p>
<p>Her acrylics dug into his jacket, yanking him up, before he caught eyes with several letters from Manny, he was able to pick one up and stuff it in his pocket before she could get him up.</p>
<p>Matt interrupted. "Hey, do you know anything else?"</p>
<p>Nikita glanced up at him, gathering her papers.</p>
<p>"no, I don't know nothing more. Can you two leave please? Preferably now?" She snapped, mood swinging fast. She was way nicer earlier, DeStorm was curious as to what came into her.</p>
<p>DeStorm motioned for mat to get up. "Uh-huh. I don't understand why you're acting like a-" he was cut off by Matt covering his mouth. "We'll see you later Nikita. Thank you for telling us what you know."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>DeStorm shoved his hand off of his mouth, and walked out the door, Matt not far behind him.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>DeStorm slid into the car, a sigh trailing off his lips as he pulled out a skimpy pack of cigarettes, lighter in free hand. He brought the lighter to the cigarette, and lit it, smoke pouring out the small tobacco filled thing. DeStorm knew that this case would probably take alot of smoking to get through, and it frustrated him to death. He doesn't understand half of what's going on in this case, it makes no sense. Wasn't Nikita supposed to be Manny's best friend? She clearly knew something that they didn't, and is trying to cover it up. DeStorm snapped out of his thoughts as matt spoke to him.</p>
<p>"What do you think was up with Nikita?"</p>
<p>"Well, if I know anything about anything, she is definitely a suspect as to who did this. Were you gave a suspect list, or are we doing this freely?" </p>
<p>"well." Matt paused, chuckling softly. "I have a memorised one. Next, I'm positive we're going down to Roi Fabito's. Alex's friend since elementary. Apparently nobody had as close of a bond as they did." </p>
<p>"Wait-" he murmured. "Before  we go, I think we should read this." He waved the letter in the air with his free hand, rolling down the window with his other hand and letting the burnt tobacco fall out of the cigarette. He threw the cigarette butt out the window, and then pulled the letter open. It seemed to be untouched, which was strange.</p>
<p>He opened the lightly crumpled letter. First glance, alot of things were marked out.</p>
<p>"From what I can read, it says this."</p>
<p>"Dear Nikita,</p>
<p>It's been so much fun here with Alex, though I'm starting to miss home. I would kill to be back with you in a heartbeat. How long's it been? days? Weeks? I don't even know. I'm really homesick right now,  thinking about some people way too often, y'know. How's Matt doing by the way? I don't expect you to write back, but I'd die to know how he's doing. He was so good to me, but I'd do anything to fix the day I left. Please tell him I miss him okay? And let him know I'm sorry for leaving him, and treating him how I did. I just wanted to tell him that I miss him each--"</p>
<p>"It cuts off from there."</p>
<p>When DeStorm glanced up at mats face, it was that pale white color. He grabbed the paper from DeStorms hands with a growl and ripped it up, throwing it into her bushes. He backed up fast, and drove off, starting to head towards roi's. </p>
<p>There was something so ghostly about Matt's face, something that showed that something terrible must've happened. </p>
<p>What DeStorm didn't know was mat was angry. He was angry that Nikita didn't even attempt to contact him, or to tell him that he felt that way. Matt started to shake, tears dropping from his eyes, no matter how much he tried to blink them back.</p>
<p>Matt aggressively pulled to the side of the road and rammed the door open, slamming it behind him and collapsing to the road, leaning against his door with his hands close to his chest. DeStorm was going to check on him, but why should he care? He was so numb that he couldn't even bare to sympathize with another, the choked out sobs coming from Matt starting to just become background noise, as he pinned his own thoughts deep. He wasn't going to sympathize with some victim. He was just like anyone else, and DeStorm wasn't going to befriend someone weak. </p>
<p>Matt thought to himself. Maybe this was his karma, what he deserved? Now Manny thinks he hates him. Which he does, but not as much as he did when he said the things he said that night at the carnival. </p>
<p>Matt smashed his fists against the concrete, eyes shutting. He just wanted it all to go away, everything. He didn't even know why he agreed to this case, he knew it'd be emotionally numbing. But after this, he would go to that stupid hotel and be able to sleep. Sleep was the only way to make him feel anything. </p>
<p>Matt felt his episode start to calm, and he opened the door, face red and numb. </p>
<p>"How about we go to a bar instead."</p>
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